Teardrops
by lunar-kunoichi
Summary: [Hinatacentric]The most innocent people change the most... but there are virtues which will stay with them forever. oneshot


**A/N: this is written in UK English, so there might be some misunderstandings – hopefully not. This is also the first part of a three-part series of one-shots which are only slightly connected.**

**A/N2: I really CANNOT continue with Broken and Healing for some reason. I have everything planned out, but every time I turn my attention towards it, I blank. Probably because some chapters are prewritten and way _too_ OOC for some people's tastes, but I'm not sure what to change.**

**Warnings: Extreme OOC angst Hinata**

**TEARDROPS**

BY LUNAR-KUNOICHI

FOR wouldn't go as far as to say I was physically abused in my clan. After all, my father only trained me, a traditional role for him. I knew he did not, and had not, believed in my potential for years by the time I was eight, but for a while, it did not matter. I progressed under his hand at that time, actually had the heart to flourish at the arts. It wasn't until Hanabi began her own lessons and training sessions that the whispers came of her potential, and I was thrown out of the way and looked down upon as if I were a beggar clothed in rags.

My father continued, but I could tell he did not want it. It was simply tradition to train the elder child, and he followed his duty well. It was not until I was ten that he finally submitted to the elders' calls and formally disowned me in favour of my sister as the heir. She was everything the clan wanted, strong, confident and graceful in both combat and political issues. I went to live and train with my new guardian and Sensei, Yuuhi Kurenai.

I can still remember that day so clearly. It is as if the memory of it had been etched into my memory and I was cursed to recall the terrible event over and over. It would the perfect punishment for me from the elders for being so weak they had to renounce me as Hyuuga. They new the pain and the dissolving of my life right before my eyes would break my spirit. I suppose it worked perfectly if I can still feel the anguish of their plan even now, years on. I can say one phrase and describe it wholly, though it would be an understatement. It hurt.

Hearing my father, one of the people I truly loved with all my heart, exploit all my flaws to a person I barely knew hurt. A single, tiny hole of emptiness was pricked into my heart at his sharp words. Listening to him say I was not up to standard at anything, I felt numb, and leant gently on a wall for support, barely holding back tears. But the pain wasn't over. The final trigger was his cruel opinion of my person itself. Learning he cared nothing for my fate made my emotions roll over the threshold of my well-learnt discipline. A teardrop rolled out of either eye, warmth on my chilly skin, salty to the taste.

I cannot say I was alone. My new teacher, now my only legal family, chose the ill timed moment to leave the dojo and find me just leaning against the wall, crying. It was not the best first impression, I'm sure. Her opinion and treatment of me was based on that notion of fragility.

She gave only warmth and almost never criticised me. Her actions told more than her words, her protectiveness overwhelming. I remember standing alone after her presence had left and wondering if she did not think me capable to know the truth. I know now that that warmth and love were probably one of my main disabilities. She didn't trust me and I needed others to do so desperately, just to lift my self-esteem maybe two inches. Or at least fill the void I felt, the remains of my shattered heart.

I hid the emptiness inside a shy personality and avoided talking when I could. It was one way to compensate the world, which I still felt a debt to despite everything it had thrown at me. The joys I had felt in my early childhood I could not forget, even through the years of mental _torture_. Technically, I was not an adult or even a teenager, but the carefree warmth of many years had left me. I was alone and stranded in the cold. All my illusions, meant to be kept until I was at least five years older, were shattered. Maybe it was for the better. My coldness kept me from being hurt all over again. Somehow, I managed to convince even myself that my actions were my feelings.

The only two people who still warmed me inside were both boys my age. My team-mate and, probably, best friend, and my childhood crush. They were both loud and impulsive, the complete opposite of my persona. They made me feel shy, but loved, though I would honestly blush at one of them sometimes. It was then my childhood sweetness and innocence would shine, despite my efforts to force myself to be strong. Eventually, I healed due to their efforts. Their eyes haunt me now. But the fault is theirs. Leaving me alone, once again, pushed me beyond the brink. I am still sane, barely, but I cannot control my emotions any longer.

My hand is clean, as the techniques of my clan do not need blood to be spilled to kill. It is renown throughout the five countries of ninja. A war has been fought over it between my town and another for my eyes and I have been kidnapped and threatened many times just for them. They are a blessing, but also a curse. I chose to interpret it in the way of the first. What I had just done is not new. There have been scandals. The only surprise would be my role in the plan as my former cousins, aunts, uncles and all my other relations would not expect it. They did not know me. They have no right to judge.

I look down on the lifeless body. Dark hair covers his face and his white eyes and robe will be recognised easily, but by then I will be gone. Past reason or the borders of this country, I do not know. But I will be gone. I thought my tears had dried up long ago but I was wrong. A teardrop rolls out of either eye, warmth to my skin and salty to the taste. In surprise, I reach up and touch the wet trail before brushing it away and regarding the man.

"I gave you a painless death, father, before the knife wound could," I whisper while covering the body, "unlike my former plans. Just because I can still remember the warmth you showed me as a child and the affection a few moments ago. Because this is my debt to you for saving my life at the cost of your own, with no obligations to do so and because after everything… I still love you."

I guess I wasn't as empty as I thought. But I didn't let the tears flow freely and haven't since he died.


End file.
